“Your father should be the one to regret first, for having brought into the world such a waste like you and embarrassing himself!”
Insulting people? Who can’t? Since Qian Xing had started it, Mo Hua didn’t hold back either.
Mo Hua felt he had only uttered a common insult, but Qian Xing’s reaction was beyond his expectations.
Qian Xing turned ashen, then his face slowly twisted.
The surroundings also quieted down substantially.
The lackeys behind Qian Xing were somewhat dumbfounded. They had followed him around, swaggering and bullying others for so long, but this was the first time they had seen someone dare to publicly insult Qian Xing.
Mo Hua was taken aback as well.
He hadn’t said much, so why did it break his defenses?
If he couldn’t handle that, what if he spat out the swear words he had been fermenting in his stomach? Wouldn’t Qian Xing directly vomit blood?
It seems that those coddled from birth do have a more fragile Taoist Heart…
In an instant, Qian Xing felt a surge of rage, his eyes reddened, and bloodshot appeared in them. His fingers trembled as he pointed at Mo Hua, his expression ferocious as he screamed:
“I want him dead! Dead!”
Mo Hua frowned. Just because of a few insults, he wanted to kill?
In a frenzy, Qian Xing’s followers hesitated, “Young master, do you really want to beat him to death?”
Qian Xing glared with blood-red eyes, “Either he dies, or you die, choose for yourselves!”
Most of them were either secondary members of the Qian family or affiliated outsiders. Following Qian Xing allowed them to share in the spoils, so they had no choice but to obey him. If they displeased Qian Xing, they would be discarded like dead dogs from the Qian Family.
But having followed Qian Xing for so long, they were not strangers to dirty work, so they felt no burden on their conscience.
A disciple from the Qian Family said maliciously, “Kid, it’s your bad luck, try to see more clearly in your next life.” With that, his fist shot straight for Mo Hua’s forehead.
That punch was both insidious and ruthless, clearly meant to be fatal.
Only, when the fist was still a few feet away from Mo Hua, it was caught by someone.
The disciple whose fist was caught struggled to break free, but couldn’t. Instead, he felt his bones creaking. Before he could cry out in pain, he received a punch to the face. Nose bleeding, his body was pushed back by the force repeatedly, and he finally fell and lost consciousness against the wall like a broken sack.
The others were intimidated for a moment. Looking up, they saw the strapping young man who had somehow come to stand behind Mo Hua.
It was the apprentice of Master Chen from the Refinery Shop—Dazhu.
The normally jovial Dazhu now stood expressionless, his arms muscled like iron, emanating an imposing aura without anger, silently standing behind Mo Hua.
Mo Hua appeared unfazed.
In this district of South Main Street in Tongxian City, his “connections” were fairly extensive if it came to a fight.